Eight years

I wasn’t going to write this post. If you’ve lost a loved one you might be able to relate. I wanted this day to be just another day in the long line of days that is my life. I’ve grieved all my grief and healed my pain, and he remains in my heart but as a friend of lifetimes. I miss him sometimes, and once in a while i’ll find myself wondering what we’d be doing now if he was still here. I don’t even know if we’d still be together. Perhaps not, who knows? But as it is, he and I are still in touch, through the dreams that have never left me. The feathers he lays in my path wherever I happen to be in the world. The books with his messages. The random things I find in impossible places. Eight years later and I’ve let go of all the anger and frustration i once felt towards him. I’ve learned the lessons of our relationship, and built a life around me that’s honest and independent and all mine. That I don’t share it with a significant other is less to do with my attachment to him (for I no longer am) and more to do with circumstances and fate.

I flew to New York last week for a few days, my 40th birthday present to myself. While there I got my new tattoo, the one I’ve been planning for months. I’ve been searching for years to find the right artist, and when I discovered the work of Cris Cleen I knew I’d found my man. His style, his philosophy and the integrity I see in his work drew me in immediately, and when I saw his interpretation of a swallow, I just knew.

Swallows are a traditional tattoo motif — historically sailors used them to show off their sailing experience. From Wikipedia:

“Of British origin in the early days of sailing, it was the image of a Barn Swallow, usually tattooed on the chest, hands or neck. According to one legend, a sailor tattooed with one swallow had travelled over 5,000 nautical miles (9,260 km); a sailor with two swallows had travelled 10,000 nautical miles (18,520 km).Travelling these great distances was extremely difficult and dangerous in the early days of sailing, so one or more swallow tattoos denoted a very experienced and valuable sailor. Another legend holds that since swallows return to the same location every year to mate and nest, the swallow will guarantee the sailor returns home safely. A sailor would have one swallow tattooed before setting out on a journey, and the second swallow tattooed at the end of their tour of duty, upon return to their home port. It is also said that if the sailor drowns, the swallows will carry their soul to heaven. The swallow also represents love, care and affection towards family and friends, showing the loyalty of the person always returning to them. The bird also represents freedom and hope.”

To me, the swallow represents my independence and my freedom, a reminder of qualities I will always posess even if I fall in love again. She marks the completion of the healing journey I have taken, flying in the direction of my heart to show I will always return home — to myself and to my loved ones.

On a purely practical note, I placed her on my right forearm to balance the tattoo I have planned for my left arm. She’s my most visible tattoo to date and that feels right to me. I know tattoos aren’t everyone’s cup of tea, but to me they are bold and beautiful, permanent adornment infused with meaning.

My love didn’t have any tattoos himself but he appreciated mine as they were a part of me. In the last eight years there have been many changes: my weight has fluctuated, my eyesight has worsened. My hair has sprouted grey in places and creases have formed where they weren’t there before… But this bird inked on my arm is the most radical change of all and it’s one he will never see — at least not with physical eyes. And that is as it should be, for this swallow will be appreciated by another lover one day, his fingertips tracing the outline that ghostly hands cannot.

And I welcome that day’s arrival with an open heart.

44 responses

Your bird is beautiful, your voice even more so. Your tears have watered some seeds that have grown into beautiful flowers…….

Elizabeth

Dearest Susannah – thank you so much for this post and for your work. I have a tattoo of Picasso’s peace dove on my arm – a symbol of peace and freedom that I had inscribed during the long process of healing from the suicide of a dear friend/would-be lover. May the quiet thrills of healing & freedom be close companions for you. Much love – elizabeth

Mary in VA

Someone once told me that the anniversary of a loss is a time to treat yourself gently, and reflect on the paths you’ve taken since. Your blog and your books show the growth in the past 8 years. Thank you for sharing it with us.

TJ Wood

Gently powerful and moving…hugs to you. This is so beautiful…

“this swallow will be appreciated by another lover one day, his fingertips tracing the outline that ghostly hands cannot”

I am feeling melancholy today, missing my friend who passed almost four years ago now. I made her a mix tape, and it made me feel a bit better. I noticed that the mood of the mix was dreamy, sad in a deep way, but beautiful too. Grief ages like this. It can still be sharp at times–as it was when it visited me this morning during yoga class and I cried during savasana, my throat and chest so tight I felt like I couldn’t breath, the tears hot and bitter–but more often for me now, it’s a deep ache. It certainly never will go away. I will never stop missing her. Both our hearts, yours and mine (along with everyone who has lost someone they love so much), are stretched and broken and thus so much bigger, our capacity for love so big it becomes almost unbearable. It’s a secret in you now, but one day, someone will know it, share it, be blessed and maybe even broken by it.

I love tattoos, but I love them even more when someone has a story to tell about them, who got inked because their heart was already invisibly marked and they wanted to make that memory, that experience visible.

Thank you for the gift of this message. Today I launched a new class as a tribute to my ‘lost love’. It’s my imprint, much like your tattoo…you loved me, it mattered, and here is my creative expression infused with my experience.

This line “his fingertips tracing the outline that ghostly hands cannot”. My goodness, that will stay with me for a long time…for I write words he will never read, but one day another lover will fully absorb…what a gift you have given by choosing to share…thank you.

The end of this brought tears to my eyes. I think your tattoo is beautiful. I have a big one in memory of a lost love planned for my left arm this Summer. Can’t wait to see your future ink, brave girl <3

This is beautiful Susannah. I wrote a poem about Swallow a few years ago. I was surprised to see this being visit me in the flow of poetry. The medicine continues to unfold in my life. Bless this new cycle in your life dear heart! xo

jane

loving you, your changes and your growing… i see you there swallow, fly with our freind <3

I love my daughter to suicide 5 years ago. Her death propelled me into a grief I could not have imagined. But coming back from that grief, I started life over. Not the way I used to be before, because that person did not exist anymore. Like you, I’ve found my wings – my independence, my creativity, everything is new. of course, I’m not glad for what happened – but I am grateful for the spirit in me that rose up to heal and present me with a sparkling new life!

I came across this quote today and it struck me as quite profound. I hope you don’t mind me sharing it here:

“If you’re really listening, if you’re awake to the poignant beauty of the world, your heart breaks regularly. In fact, your heart is made to break; its purpose is to burst open again and again so that it can hold evermore wonders.”
— Andrew Harvey

here’s to the journey this swallow will accompany you on…as my dear friend has always whispered to me at times of (sometimes most heartbreaking) transition ‘onward & upward’. may you continue to soar, susannah. xx

you’re a brave writer. which is what it’s all about in the end. i too have tattoos. they are the marks i choose to add to my body, to supplement the ones Mother Nature [and the odd accident] have tossed at me, the wrinkles and scars i have no choice in…and all bar one are of my own design and drawing. and that odd one out is special for the hand that drew it.

What a deeply moving post…your tattoo is lovely and seems perfect for this moment in your life. I loved your mention of feathers and that they’re a sign from your loved one…for me it’s the eastern bluebird. Sightings are rare, but with each one it’s a soulful, sacred moment because I know my loved one is saying hello. Thanks for sharing.

This is a really beautiful post, and I’m glad you did write it. I’ve just started reading your wonderful book and am about halfway through already and am in love with your words and your ideas and stories. This post fits in perfectly with the bit I have got to: I just passed I Have A Body. Lovely :)

Your new tattoo is gorgeous and HAPPY BIRTHDAY and I hope you had the most brilliant time in NY.

Hello! I'm Susannah. I’m an author, photographer and teacher who’s been sharing her heart online for over a decade. I help people trust, know and express themselves better by sharing the tools that helped me heal my own heart and live a self-directed life. My work is steeped in self-compassion, kindness and practicality and I share my own creative journey to inspire you on yours. I’m so glad you’re here!